#series: petals and thornes
Text
Rose Gold
Book: The Royal Romance
Pairing: Hana Lee x Kiara Theron
Rating: PG
Word Count: 4, 304 words
Content Warning: Mention of Gun Violence, Character Injury.
Summary: Six months after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, Hana and Kiara take their next big step as a couple.
A/N: Set in the P&Tverse. Since P&T spans the timelines of Books 2 and 3 (the Engagement Tour and the Unity Tour + Liam & Esther's wedding), most of this fic takes place after the series is meant to end, and there are references to things that happen there that aren't canon.
The first half of the fic, however, takes place just before the group reunites with the MC and Drake at the safe house (TRR3, Ch 1).
I've borrowed a few elements from Hana's own engagement to the MC in the books: the rose gold ring, the coin throwing ritual at the foundation and the proposal at the lake.
Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek for Day 5: Romance, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and LGBTQ Archive, and @choicesmaychallenge24 for Hera: Marriage
October 14th, 2017. Half past Midnight.
Foolishness. Sheer foolishness.
The voice inwardly chiding her right now sounded suspiciously like her mother; for that reason alone she was desperate to ignore it.
But what else would one call an impulse to jump out of a car that could take her in complete secrecy to the city's best safe house, only to race to Argyros and Sons - Cordonia's premier jewellery store - for a gift she wasn't even sure would be accepted...a promise she wasn't even sure its intended recipient would want?
"Looking for something specific, Your Grace?"
Surprised, Hana looked up from the case displaying an assortment of glittering diamond rings. The eyes that met hers in a speculative survey were ocean-blue, marked by wizened crow's feet. It was at the tip of her tongue to correct him (Lady Hana, sir!) when she spotted the Twitter feed on the iPhone in his hand.
News sure does travel fast around the Capitol!
But no sooner had that thought left her head, than the riptide of memories began to flood her.
The Homecoming Ball. Hors d'oeuvres. Speeches. Fireworks. Announcements. Please welcome Esther DuPont, Duchess of Valtoria, and Hana Lee, Duchess of Krysanthe. Cheers. Expectant Gazes. And then...
Darkness. Gunshots. The acrid taste of fear.
Hana bit back a grimace. How long would memories of tonight haunt her? How long would it be before she heard people address her by her new title, without memories of the violence that followed?
She held her handbag with a sudden death-grip, forcing herself to breathe. To push forth happier, sweeter memories.
Unbidden, comes the one memory that had managed to keep her sane this night.
Her laughter.
Sharp. Raucous. Loud. Jarring against the tinkling sounds of cutlery and glassware, as far away as one could get from the soft, windchime quality of delicate laughter, that every female courtier was taught to emulate.
She thought she'd known love until that moment, fool that she was. Thought that no matter who she dated, no matter how distant she'd be from those memories of the social season - Esther would somehow remain her first and forever love.
Until she had taken that one fateful look at Kiara's wildly joyous face, heard her cackle - the kind one would never normally dare to do at court - and realized with piercing clarity that if she were to compare her feelings for these two women, they would be nowhere close.
Her love for Esther had all the subdued warmth of a crackling bonfire. But these newfound feelings for Kiara?? They made her feel like she was plunging herself headfirst into a raging volcano.
Something within Hana had trembled violently in that moment; some premonition that felt searing in its finality.
Kiara was the one. She was all Hana had ever wanted, without knowing it; all that Hana would ever want, from now till eternity. The one in whose arms she would want to stir awake, every day for the rest of her life.
Kiara Thorne, or no one. Kiara Thorne, or lifelong loneliness.
The phrase rang in her ears like a verdict: final, eternal, unchangeable.
When Hana opened her eyes, she found to her consternation that they were blurry from unshed tears. Quickly blinking them away, she noted dully how different the rings on the display now looked.
Certainly she must have moved to another part of the store without knowing. Where before she'd seen glittering, brilliant, ostentatious diamonds, set in white gold and platinum...now she saw stones nestled in the embrace of a warmer, almost blush-toned metal.
Rose gold.
The metal that was all the rage in her mother's birthplace Bethulia, for its delicate shimmer and soft pink hue. Mama had told her often enough in her childhood that their barony's love for it went far beyond just the colour...that her mother - Hana's Nanimaa - loved it for being such a perfect union of gold, silver and copper...
A whisper of a memory of Nanimaa, the one time she'd ever seen her. At a fountain, glowing from the glimmer of abandoned coins.
It took her less than a minute to find exactly what she didn't know she'd been looking for. Had you asked the jeweller about her, he would have told you that the newly appointed Duchess of Krysanthe had chosen her ring with the greatest confidence. The confidence of a woman who had probably wooed her beloved, confessed her love, basked in the joy of being loved back.
A confidence Hana didn't feel.
When she returned to the limo, she was greeted with the sight of a pensive Liam, rubbing the frown between his brows absently with his fingers. A telltale muscle jumped inside his jaw.
"Any news?" Hana whispered, almost dreading the answer.
"Yes," his voice was grainy from exhaustion and guilt. "Three people injured. Bastien, Esther's press secretary, and...."
"And?" Her voice had gone small and high, that a fearful child's.
"And Lady Kiara. She was..."
Hana blinked once, then blinked again. Liam's mouth was moving, yet no sound seemed to come out. All that she could hear was a low, keening noise, like a muffled siren...or like the moan of a woman in terrible pain.
Kiara. Kiara. Kiara.
--
May 12th, 2018. Afternoon.
"How far from the palace are you taking us?" Kiara asks, her voice alight with laughter.
"Not even outside its gates," Hana replies, grinning. Kiara looks down at their fingers laced together, palms almost touching.
They've been together for just six months, and still somehow, the lines on Hana's palm feel as familiar to her now as her own. Without even looking she can conjure up the memory of the heartline on Hana's left palm at a moment's notice - long and deep, starting from her index finger, suggesting she would be a wonderful lover with a very fruitful love experience - and her marriage line, stretching from one end of her palm all the way to her ring finger...suggesting friendly in-laws.
(The thought of luring Hana to marry her under the premise of palmistry is sounding more and more tempting by the minute)
Involuntarily - perhaps to stop herself from checking her trouser pockets once again for that tiny box she took from her vault today - Kiara's hand tightens around Hana's.
Can she dare to hope that fortunate beloved could be her?
She steals a glance in Hana's direction, noting with alarm that her fingers are trembling in Kiara's hand.
"We're here," she says, her voice suddenly small and quivering against the gurgle of water in the courtyard fountain. It's been a palace fixture for several decades now - ornate and imposing - a legacy from King Liam's formidable grandmother, the late Queen Mother Cassandra. According to Kiara's father, the woman had married into the family as a young princess from Monterisso, and for her foreignness alone was expected to be crushed by the strictures of the palace and the expectations of her people - yet in a decade's time she had somehow became the most imposing figure there! There was very little in the palace that didn't have her stamp of approval first.
As they come closer, Kiara sees the one thing Queen Mother Cassandra may not have predicted when this fountain was built - the glimmer of coins, all gleaming in the sunlight like they were minted just yesterday.
Her own smile begins to tremble on her lips, even as she notices Hana swallow a telltale nervous lump in her throat. For the first time since they have gotten here, Kiara notices that Hana's other hand is fisted around something. Something that could very likely be the same coins they just saw in the fountain.
She takes that hand gently in hers, knowing now how nervous Hana must feel; knowing that if they complete the ancient lover's ritual that she so hoped to do today, there will be no going back. She uncoils Hana's fisted hand, finger by quivering finger, watching her face as her breathing quickens. She smiles again - a smile more aimed at reassurance than amusement.
"Are we going to do what I think we're going to do today, ma moité?"
For several seconds, Hana doesn't respond. The three coins in her hand (Heavy. Ornate. Engraved with apples. Ancient) are proof enough. The answer, when it finally comes - almost like it is torn out of her throat for fear that Kiara's feelings may not match her own - is barely audible.
"Only if this is what you want too."
Gold. Silver. Copper. Tossed in one after the other in an ancient lover's ritual - one that Kiara knows only because she'd learned about it from her mother, who'd had friends in Bethulia where this ritual was most popular. Maman and Baba themselves had done it on a trip there when she was a teenager, still squirming over her parents' ability to still act like swoony romantics in their (and this would be said well out of their earshot) "fucking forties!".
Wiser now, Kiara feels the same anticipatory tingles that her parents must have felt back then.
This ritual wasn't for the faint of heart in ancient days. You did it only when you were certain. When you looked at your lover and knew that a life without them wasn't a life worth living.
Well, Kiara muses as she watches a hundred emotions flit in a second over Hana's face, I think I've known that long enough. I've known ever since I saw you fight your father in Shanghai, even when you knew it would cost you everything. Since that one moment, I've been yours.
Planting a tender kiss on the corner of Hana's mouth, she takes the coins. "Ready when you are," she whispers softly.
Hana swallows again, her eyes glistening and moist and relieved all at once. In a silk pouch that dangles from her wrist, she fishes for three coins identical to the ones on Kiara's palm. She breathes deep once, twice, three times.
Kiara links their free hands, grips them tight as they turn their backs to the fountain. Hana looks up, a question in her eyes.
"For friendship!" Kiara says, tossing the copper coin into the fountain. Faint memories of something that almost feels like another lifetime glimmer and fade in her memory. Applewood, sipping water, giggling over their favourite fruits and flowers. The Beaumont Bash. Watching from the sidelines as Hana did the verbel equivalent of ripping out Olivia Nevrakis' spine at the Coronation Ball.
Hana takes out the silver coin, and waits for Kiara to holds up hers'. "For love?"
Engagement tour. Fearing Hana would hate her in Fydelia, but never understanding why that should suddenly matter. Standing with her against a bridge in Paris, each mourning their lost loves.
Finally learning what love really was, when she opened her eyes and truly saw Hana for the very first time.
Kiara nods, touching her forehead to Hana's. "Par amour." Their coins splash in unison in the water.
Her girlfriend lets out a watery giggle as she takes out the final coin, glittering and golden on her palm. Her voice breaks a little as she tosses it behind her. "For...bel- belonging".
Kiara's own sigh releases in a shudder as she lets the final pledge sink in.
There were very few places in the world that truly felt like home to Hana. Not the place where she was born, not the barony that could have been her legacy. It took her months to even find comfort or security in her future in Cordonia - much less belonging.
Without a moment's thought, and without releasing the golden coin in her hand, she cups Hana's face and kisses her. Hana shudders and buries her hands in Kiara's hair, her lips trembling against the unspoken promises in her lover's.
"For belonging," Kiara says it like it is a vow. "And I don't care how long it takes - I give my word right now. I'll never let you feel like you have lost your home. Ever." Another kiss - this time on Hana's temple. "I hope you will always find one. In me."
Hana's smile is warm and dreamlike, her eyes closed as if to savour this moment, her fingers playing with Kiara's curls. She barely notices the sound of Kiara's gold coin landing in the fountain. "I love you, Kiki."
Kiara chuckles at her teasing use of the nickname, brushing Hana's nose with her own. "Together forever?"
Their hands, now free, close around each other. "Together forever."
It's quiet now, except for the sound of collard doves, the rustle of leaves and branches in a light breeze, and their breathing. The air smells of wildflowers, citrus and a subtle floral scent that Kiara knows to be the perfume Hana has been using for months. Orange Blossom. She grins as she remembers. It's a scent Hana has often loved to wear, just for her.
Hana's thumb feathers lightly over the ring finger on Kiara's left hand, almost as if to commit the bare space on it to her memory. Kiara doesn't miss that gaze - bright-eyed and soaked in longing - and how it mirrors a need she has felt ever since they landed at the Capitol last week.
Kiara swallows. She had wanted to take things slow, she really did. Woo her, bathe her in every luxury possible, make this trip even more unforgettable than Hana could ever imagine, and then spring this surprise on her - like a kirsch-soaked cherry topping on an already very tempting Black Forest Cake.
But...but that gaze of Hana's has always been Kiara's undoing.
Simply, she says, "come with me."
Puzzled, Hana looks up. "Where?"
"To Lake Sôse," Kiara whispers, wasting not one more moment and grabbing her hand. Hana lets out a nervous, slightly incredulous laugh as she allows herself to be pulled along.
Kiara isn't sure why she's suddenly rushing this. When she thinks of the elaborate plans she'd been constructing all week - chocolate-dipped strawberries and champagne at one of the Capital's premier restaurants, flowers everywhere, a proposal at the hedge maze with a picture together by the swing to commemorate the occasion - she wants to laugh. She isn't even sure why Lake Sôse was the first place she'd thought of just now.
She takes a deep breath, and grounds herself. Uncommonly impulsive though it may be, her decision has been made. There is even a part of her that seems to prefer it to happen this way!Kiara has never been one for last minute changes of plan...but ever since she fell in love with Hana, she's learned to expect - and enjoy - the unexpected.
It's only when she sees the shine in Hana's eyes that she realises why her mind took the turn it did.
Lake Sôse. The one place Hana Lee has always chosen for solace and comfort. The one place in the Capitol where she felt the most at home. It had been here, Hana told Kiara once, that King Liam had told her his plans to appoint her Duchess of Krysanthe. It was here, hours later, that she'd shared that momentous news with her best friend Esther; where Esther - herself aglow with love and a newfound purpose - hugged Hana and told her that the world would now be Hana's oyster.
She'd brought Kiara to this lake for the first time the day after King Liam and Queen Esther's wedding, following a night when the queen herself had been kidnapped, and Hana had joined the king's entourage to rescue her.
A night that Kiara - in constant fear of losing her forever - had recklessly kissed Hana. In public. In front of the entire court. Braving gazes of teasing approval from Kiara's parents, and near-murderous glares from Hana's. The night everyone outside of Hana's friend circle finally realized the two were a couple.
Kiara remembers the day after that like it was yesterday. Something must have changed fundamentally in Hana that night, because the fear seemed to have gone, and with it the compulsive need for hiding and subterfuge and constantly looking over her shoulder. It was as if Hana had faced what she'd thought was the worst thing that could happen to her, and realized she really was strong enough to face that fear.
You're my safe place among people, Hana told her that morning, her fingers lacing through Kiara's. The one I feel most at home with. I want to bring my safe space..to the place in Cordonia I've always felt safest in.
It is afternoon, and the yellow crocuses behind them exude a warm, buttery golden glow in the sunlight. Hana lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh. "You seem like a woman in a very huge rush today, Lady Thorne."
Kiara's own laughter in response is high-pitched and halting. She tries to hide the moistness of her palms as she makes a blind grab for the small velvet box in her purse. "Believe me, this wasn't the way I'd planned this to go at all."
Intrigued, Hana's eyes follow Kiara's hands, and her eyes widen as she recognises the familiar deep blue velvet, the embossed silver lettering on top. Argyros and Sons.
"Is that --"
"Yes," Kiara says, clearing her throat, "I'd been planning this. All week. It was going to be romantic, elaborate, I was going to sweep you off your feet. Just like I'd planned to ask you out seven months ago."
Hana lets out a watery giggle. We all know how that turned out, don't we, qīn'ài de? Kiara can almost hear her saying.
But the humour stops almost immediately when she looks at the box again, and suddenly Hana seems too still, too shocked...too far off from how Kiara hoped she would react.
Kiara lets out a deep breath, then lets the words gush out of her. She's too scared to stop, too terrified to think - the fear that she may be doing too much too soon is so overwhelming that she knows if she stops she won't be able to bring herself to do this for a long, long time to come. The humiliation would be too strong.
"I'm not one for impulse. I never have been. I've never felt comfortable with anything if I didn't have a plan for it first."
Kiara gives herself a moment to half-smile at the irony of it all. Approaching Hana Lee with a smile and a bottle of water, after that first eventful bite of a Cordonian Ruby was definitely an impulse. So were half the things she had done with Hana since. So will many, many, many of the things they may wind up doing together, if (if!) this leap of faith works in her favour.
She looks up at Hana to see if she's laughing at the memory too. She isn't. In fact, Kiara isn't even sure Hana's reacting yet to what she's saying. Perfectly still, her eyes never moving from the box, so wide that they would go bloodshot if they were widened any further. Kiara swallows, and finds that her throat feels suddenly, inexplicably sore.
"I could never tell what it was about you that changed all that. I still don't. All I know is that...around you, Hana, I feel so much more brave. To let go of the need to plan and organize. To not be too afraid of what will follow - whether it goes in my favour or not. I find myself not just willing, but eager, to trust my gut."
Kiara's eyes search every inch of Hana's face as she opens the box, revealing the ring inside. It's a gorgeous piece, all platinum and sparkling diamonds. The smaller stones form a cluster around a massive one, leading the viewer to believe they are seeing a glittering snowflake, fallen fresh from the heavens.
Kiara had known the minute she saw the ring that it was the one. That it would remind them of the first time they confessed their love. Of their very first date, of the first time they shared Hana's cup of homemade hot chocolate. Of why the two of them will always love winters.
Hana's fingers move, trembling, towards her mouth, her face suddenly flushed. She remembers it too.
"Hana Lee," A frisson of fear slithers down Kiara's spine. "Will you marry me?"
When Hana finally opens her mouth, several seconds later, Kiara has to strain to hear her voice.
"I - I -" her eyes dart away from Kiara as if she's just remembered something important - her beautiful bronzed skin suddenly a little drained of colour. The next few words, she says in a "I.... I'll be back. Give me five minutes? I...just remembered something."
She leaves without waiting for an answer.
Kiara sinks into the grass, covering her face in her hands.
What have I just done?
--
All the way back from her room in the palace to the lake, the pouch hanging from her wrist feeling only a slight bit heavier, Hana cannot stop mentally kicking herself.
"You fool! You imbecile! Bèn dàn!!" Hana curses herself as she speeds up her sprint into a run, "What happened to your tongue? What kind of reaction was that?? What will Kiara think?"
Her mind now sprints miles ahead of her feet, racing in panicked ferocity over the possibilities.
With any luck, Kiara could still be waiting - puzzled and perhaps a little worried. Or she could be actively panicking, the way she does (on very rare occasions) when a plan goes terribly wrong.
Or...or...
Hana holds the silk pouch from her wrist in a deathlike grip as she speeds up towards Lake Sôse. Or.
The thought of that lovely, open space completely devoid of Kiara, of that beguiling combination of rose and jasmine emanating from her favourite Dior J'adore perfume, makes Hana's stomach drop to her feet.
It isn't until she sees that that heartbreakingly familiar figure of Kiara's, hunched over the grass, that Hana allows herself to breathe.
Kiara is there. Shoulders bent, head buried in her hands, almost stumbling as she tries to get up when she sees Hana.
Morose. Defeated. But still there.
Without another thought, Hana rushes into Kiara's arms, almost knocking her off her feet.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Hana whispers against her hair. "I wasn't trying to run away. I really had to get something. For you."
Kiara pulls back to look into her eyes, and when she does Hana's heart twists at the sight of unshed tears. "I thought I'd scared you off."
Hana's own laughter quavers, pitched high in disbelief. "I've just pledged myself to you this afternoon, body and soul, at the palace fountain. This -" she lifts Kiara's left hand to her chest, her thumb caressing the empty space on her beloved's ring finger " - just makes it so much more real."
Kiara's arms wrap around her, pulling Hana flush to her. Hana can feel Kiara shake as she giggles in response. "...you mean to say that I'd have saved myself so much stress if I'd just remembered those coins."
"Yes, qīn'ài de, a thousand times yes." She cups Kiara's face, pressing their foreheads together. "Place that ring where it belongs, Kiki. I can't wait to see it on my finger."
Hana holds her tight until Kiara's breathing becomes slower, calmer. She raises her newly-adorned hand for Kiara to see - marvelling at how the ring really mimics the glow of a snow crystal in the winter sun.
When they part, shyly, reluctantly, Hana begins to fiddle with the silk pouch.
"Here's what I'd gone to bring."
Kiara's eyes brighten at the sight of the box in her hand; a wave of warmth floods through Hana in anticipation of her response. Kiara gasps the minute she opens the box, revealing a delicate, intricately carved rose gold ring, flanked by small diamonds on all four corners, cradling a bigger one at the center.
"Rose gold," Kiara murmurs in wonder.
"Yes," Hana brushes her fingers over Kiara's knuckles. She'd told her once, long ago, how revered that metal was in her home province Bethulia. How Bethulian jewellers and goldsmiths and young women swore by the rosy hue it exuded. How it was a perfect amalgamation of three precious metals - all highly valued in the province. How tied it was to their folktales and bridal rituals.
"Copper..silver...gold." Kiara's tears glitter like diamonds before she lets them fall. "For friendship. For love. For belonging."
Hana smiles, her hand still stroking Kiara's cheek. "You remembered."
Kiara rolls her still-moist eyes, trying hard not to sniff - it would take out all the humour in this situation. "It's hard to forget a ritual we'd performed just ten minutes ago, ma moité."
"I'd planned to give you this ring a week from now," Hana says, shaking her head at her own impulsiveness as the ring she'd chosen on a fanciful whim so long ago, now finds its home. "I've been holding onto it for far too long."
Kiara caresses the stone on her own finger lovingly, admiring the way the rose gold glows on her skin. When she speaks, her voice is breathless in anticipation. "How long?"
For several minutes, Hana's only response is to pull Kiara back in her arms again. Her hand slides slowly, almost with a tinge of regret, down the dip of Kiara's waist on her left side. The wound that had once served as a constant, searing reminder of so much (of her vulnerability, of her inability to run from pain, of what she'd once considered her failures), has healed in more ways than one - only a faded scar that Hana never fails to kiss, now remains.
"For seven months," Hana's voice shakes at the memory, "Since the night after Homecoming Ball."
With a choked sob, Kiara enfolds Hana into her arms, almost as if she'd want to absorb her into every cell of her body. Fervently, reverently, she presses her lips all over Hana's face - her eyelids, her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, all the little-known, barely-noticed parts of her. It takes her a while - perhaps too long, in Hana's opinion - for Kiara's lips to meet hers, but she welcomes the sweet torture of waiting.
"Mon cœur," Kiara says between kisses, "ma raison de vivre."
When they part, the two women keep each other's hands interlinked, one left hand over the other. Neither of them will remember how long they stay at the lake; only that they never want this joy, this warm afterglow of seeing their dreams come true...to end.
The empty spaces on their ring fingers, over which they'd each stolen such secret, hungry glances today, now bear the mark of their lovers. Now bear the most tangible signs of their love, their memories, their promises, their commitment.
Together forever.
--
Translation:
Ma moité - a romantic endearment in French, meaning "my other half"
Qīn'ài de - Mandarin Chinese for "my dear"/"darling"
Bèn dàn - Mandarin Chinese cuss word that means "stupid egg!"
Mon cœur - French endearment, meaning "my heart"
Ma raison de vivre - French for "my reason to live"
--
References for Hana and Kiara's engagement rings:
Kiara:
(Source: Maxine Jewellery)
Hana:
(Source: This article on engagement rings, but the actual pic itself came from Blue Rose Photography)
#hana lee#the royal romance#the royal heir#the royal finale#hanaleeappreciationweek#HLAW#HLAW 2024#HLAW Day 5#HLAW Day 5: Romance#series: petals and thornes#lizzybeth1986#content: fanfic
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Then you do think of me? You think I’m pretty?
#dollangangeredit#flowers in the attic#cathy x chris#petals on the wind#if there be thorns#seeds of yesterday#christopher dollanganger#cathy dollanganger#dollanganger series#cathy and chris#r: brosis#canon#nr#my edits#cathy and chris: edits#THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR SEVEN YEARS#I GUESS I'LL POST IT NOW
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a24 should adapt flowers in the attic into a movie (or one of the books from the series)
#flowers in the attic#vc andrews#petals on the wind#cathy dollanganger#chris dollanganger#dollanganger series#if there be thorns#garden of shadows#a24
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Chris, Bart, and Jory: the Saddest Theme in the Flowers of the Attic Film Series
I swear to you, all morality leaves my body when it comes to the Dollanganger siblings. (We're speaking the VC Andrews screen adaptions, as the books are wayyyy too messy for me to make excuses for the utter sexual exploitation of Cathy and her rejection of consent) Cathy and Chris had to fight through hell with tooth and nail, and where I absolutely am disgusted by the incestuous content presented in these films, its purely because they have been clouded in so much darkness that I just want them to be happy.
Which makes the judgment (not that those who judge don't deserve to judge, it is fucking gross under any other circumstance), so much harsher, because the characters that judge them through the duration of the series didn't experience the endless trauma Chris and Cathy did. They bonded through the things only they fought through together, and Chris was more than what he was to Cathy, which was why it was seamless for him to father Cathy's children. Though it hurt him to see her love other men and bed other men, Chris was there from the second both Jory and Bart were born, raising them, providing for them, and most of all, loving them. It is something in the film series that Chris doesn't get enough recognition, because Chris sure as hell didn't have to do this much for Cathy, but because he loved her, he loved Jory and Bart, too.
Which leads to my most hated part of the film series. How Bart completely throws all of Chris' love in his face, and I know it's a driving plot point, but it's so unfair to Chris with all he's fought through to also be betrayed by one of his sons. It's bonkers to me. Chris will never not deserve better. He deserved to live happily with Cathy, and embrace his sons lovingly, and create more of a home that was warm and comfortable. Chris Dollanganger bore a majority of the hurt for his siblings, and still was walked all over for providing, loving and protecting his family. This is the man that gives in to Jory's grandmother's blackmail so he wouldn't lose him, and would rather die than refer to Bart as his "stepson."
Christopher Dollanganger in the films >>>>
#flowers in the attic#cathy dollanganger#Christopher Dollanganger#vc andrews#petals on the wind#if there be thorns#seeds of yesterday#jory Sheffield#bart sheffield#cathy x chris#cathy and chris#dollanganger series
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The Invisible String Theory is very much Rafe and Y/N from Thorn in My Side, Rose in My Hand and Before The Last Petal Falls but I also just wanna write something of them being childhood bff and not realizing it.
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cy3quGoqF-u/?igshid=ODhhZWM5NmIwOQ==
instagram
#thorn in my side rose in my hand#before the last petal falls#rafe cameron#rafe cameron series#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#Instagram
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corrine the child murderer: don’t talk to john amos he’s fucked up
#mystuff#flowers in the attic#the dollanganger series#if there be thorns#OH MAN THE END OF PETALS WAS#so many things i blocked out lol#like that yeah! cathy does bring up cory being in the other part of the attic#what i completely forgot was that immediately after making this accusation#corrine definitely burned down foxworth#TO HIDE THE EVIDENCE#ANNNNND#SHE URGED BART TO GO BACK INTO THE HOUSE FOR OLIVIA#and not for a second do i believe it's bc she wanted olivia to be saved#BUT BC BART WAS THE ONLY OTHER WITNESS TO THE CONFRONTATION#villain for the ages omfg#if there be thorns is just insane absolutely fucking insane#bc whatever her intentions are#corrine's the only person who can truly communicate with bart in a sympathetic way#so you see this weird wild little kid become friends with corrine the mystery veiled half-ghost who's technically not lying#but is so fantastical that ITS NORMAL FOR BART#who exaggerates everything and lives in his own world#OH MAN JUST#how vivid his imagination is compared to chris and cathy who used that skill to survive in the attic#anyway i love how smart jory and bart are#and how much of chris and cathy did ultimately rub off on them#despite chris not being their dad#bc at every turn as things keep getting weirder and worse#there's always a streak of reason the same as cathy every time corrine came up to the attic#WTF IS ACTUALLY GOING ON HUH? WHY WON"T ANYONE TELL ME THE TRUTH#it's so good
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Flowers in the Wardrobe
Parody play combining Flowers in the Attic with The Lion, The witch, and the Wardrobe
"Flowers in the Wardrobe tells the twisted tale of four children who try to save their family while exploring the wintry landscape of Narnia. After the death of their father and faced with crushing debt, their mother moves the family into her estranged parents’ mysterious mansion. The children are shunned by their grandmother and imprisoned in the mansion’s attic. While waiting for their grandfather to die so that their mother can inherit his wealth, the children seek comfort in cookie binges, dirty dancing and loving each other in all the wrong ways. A magical wardrobe offers the children a chance for adventure and escape, thrusting them into a sinister land populated by fauns, talking beavers and witches."
#flowers in the attic#v.c. andrews#seeds of yesterday#vc andrews#petals on the wind#if there be thorns#dollanganger#dollanganger series
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watching the newest chezzkids analysis vid and im wondering if I might have misinterpreted some stuff,,,
#see the pretty clear implications of physical abuse in between the petals and the thorns and it being shown that#sarah is kind of an asshole boss and possibly breaking labor laws#led me to be a bit more sympathetic to harrison and doubt some of the more aggressive theories about sarahs death#but this person is sorta flipping some of the dialogue i had thought gone different ways#like the stop crying conversation i had sorta read as sarahs dialogue#bc it kinda fits with the rest of her depiction#shes made harrison bleed and belittles him shes an ass to her employees yea id buy that shed speak like that#but this person assumes harrison was saying that#and it kinda makes me think#theres not much directly from sarah#harrison was clearly dumped hard so he might be an unreliable#narrator#the way this youtuber is framing it all is just different from how i saw it at first#also theyre kind of a dick#like. if youre gonna mock the series at every turn why are you covering it#i mean im also rly frustrated with the shitty audio and visual quality and i totally get making fun of the peaking and pixels but theyre#also mocking just. everything?? like laughing at the phone calls and poems and glitches and like. i get it ig but also come on
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The Devil To Pay #2 -- "Jesus Christ", Part 1
#artist#artists on tumblr#support artists#comic panels#comic strips#comic strip artist#comic strip series#the devil to pay#rose doodlez#petals or thorns
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𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
╹synopsis :: it doesn't take much to say or show you love someone even with the simplest of actions.
╹contents :: can be read as fem/gn reader; characters from blue lock, jjk and honkai star rail, FLUFF, ooc maybe?
╹notes :: as i was walking to go home at like 10pm i thought of this, hope you enjoy! added hsr specially for @okkalo ♡
ITOSHI SAE immediately takes you out to visit the sea when he gets some days off. The sounds of the waves, the relaxing atmosphere and you in his arms calm him down causing him to flashback to his childhood memories of when he was just a small and carefree child wanting nothing more but to play football with his little brother and personal cheerleader.
Not only he is known as the strongest but GOJO SATORU is also known for having a very strong sweet tooth. So what does he do to reduce the sugar? He shares it with you because there is nothing better than sharing his favourite thing with his lover, so let's say he gets a double dose of chocolate and candy from just seeing you and that's enough.
AVENTURINE is not afraid to take the risk and his constant smile makes it difficult for people to guess his true intentions. Not with you though, he lets his guard down, your voice soothing him to help him relax and as he gets lost in your touch. He is not Aventurine of the IPC or the Ten Stonehearts, he is just Kakavasha the little boy who once dreamed of love and now he won the biggest treasure in his life — you.
ITOSHI RIN knows how much you don't like scary movies, and that's why when you come over for the weekends you watch movies or series of your choice, be it Barbie or The Lion King. He will swallow his ego and stop watching the weekly uploads of his favourite scary games just so you can't fall asleep on purpose because of the horror films.
GETO SUGURU can't stop talking about how beautiful, amazing, and kind you are. Mimiko and Nanako are tired because they are the only ones who get to hear all his murmuring when you are away even for only 5 minutes. But they know how much he loves you and how you breathe life into him, and he wishes that someday they will become like you — strong and good-hearted.
ARGENTI thanks and prays to Idrila every moment of his life for obtaining the biggest blessing to ever exist and that is meeting you. The Knight of Beauty makes sure to give you one red rose every day to express his profound love and admiration, it's a small gesture that symbolizes his devotion to the relationship. He should protect his lover and like flowers, the tender petals are directed to you, with the thorns to the cosmic and its danger protecting you
It may seem that he is spoiled, but in fact, NAGI SEISHIRO is not, well not that much. Sometimes he takes charge of the household chores, giving you, a well-deserved break. He washed the dishes, cooked you a meal (instant noodles), and even tried to fold the laundry. And you, pleasantly surprised, sank into the couch, embracing the rare luxury of relaxation as familiar songs from your shared playlist were playing on the TV. Even if it doesn't happen often you are forever grateful for your lazy boyfriend to do something like that.
ITADORI YUJI shows genuine interest and actively listens to you talking about your current obsession be it a series, celebrity, book, food, or anything. He loves your voice, seeing your beautiful smile, and how your eyes seem to sparkle as you talk, he is so lovestruck that he sometimes just stares at you with the most soft and genuine look. Just don't be surprised when you find some merchandise on your desk with a little love note, okay?
Engaging in meaningful conversations and connecting on a deeper level with DR. RATIO seems like every other normal day for him. He approaches every interaction with a thirst for knowledge. And you take him by surprise every time and he doesn't know what to do, the great genius suddenly stops functioning. The way you hold his hand, kiss his cheek, make him stutter — he goes crazy and questions himself about how there is no logical explanation for this, but there is, it is called love.
SHIDOU RYUSEI doesn't like to share his material possessions with anyone, he worked so hard to get the last volumes of Chainsaw Man as they are now put on the shelf in his bedroom. And imagine his reaction when he sees you reading volume 10 which has Makina on the cover, cuddled nicely with his blanket on the bed. How dare you read it without him? And so he jumps onto the mattress, squishing you because that's your punishment for not telling him. You apologized to him of course but for him to fully forgive you, next time you will be on anicon cosplaying Makima and Denji.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI remembers the small details about you and your preferences. If you don't like a certain ingredient in the food, he will order the dish without it. You like to sleep on this side of the bed, no problem he will sleep on the other side as you both cuddle and drift to Dreamland. He will immediately notice the change in your mood and even if he is not so good with words, he will always be there for you offering his warm embrace.
As a Galaxy Ranger BOOTHILL tends to travel around the cosmos a lot and sadly he can't spend time with you. But when he's with you, one of the things you do is his hair and to put cute stickers on his metal hands or guns. The scary cyborg cowboy is now a pretty princess with pigtails, heart stickers and with a very happy lover. He watches you having fun with his makeover — and will do everything possible to spend more time with you.
©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
#✧* 🤍 blue lock#✧* 🤍 jujutsu kaisen#✧* 🤍 honkai star rail#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#x reader#sae x reader#rin x reader#nagi x reader#shidou x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#itadori x reader#megumi x reader#jjk fluff#blue lock fluff#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#aventurine x reader#dr ratio x reader#argenti x reader#boothill x reader#honkai star rail x reader#blue lock x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#hsr x you
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the house of snow (16) ✧ coriolanus snow
the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.
chapter summary: coriolanus gets to enjoy you.
word count: 1,725
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), fluff, pet name (petal)
Coriolanus picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and carried you to his room. Your room, he decided. To hell with these separate sleeping arrangements. He was not going to let you out of his sight ever again. All of this time apart only made you more anxious, made more uncertain of his feelings for you. If he had to be attached at your side for the rest of your life just to remind you that he cared for you, he would do it. He would do anything for your love.
“I love you,” he whispered against your lips. You kissed him harder, as if you could taste his love if you tried hard enough. “I love you than a thorn loves its rose.”
“Are you the thorn to my rose?”
“I am whatever you wish me to be.”
Coriolanus kicked the bedroom door behind him and carried you over to the bed. He set you down on the edge, then dropped to his knees. He reached up your skirt, grabbing the edge of one stocking and pulling it down, then the other. Your hand gripped his hair, pushing him closer to where you wanted him to be.
“Patience, petal,” he laughed as he removed your underwear. “I want to enjoy this as much as you do.”
He pushed your skirts up, leaving you fully exposed to him. He had half a mind to rip the dress right off of you, but that could wait. He truly did want to enjoy this. You had finally opened up to him, told him your worries and your fears. Coriolanus wanted to reward you for that. Wanted to show you that all would be well if you trusted him.
You let out a whine as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up your beautiful, plush thighs. Ever since your wedding night, he had been craving your legs wrapped around his head. If you had continued to ice him out, he would have dropped to his knees and begged for your forgiveness in the only way he knew might get you to respond to him. This was better, though. For you to open yourself up to him.
When he finally reached your core, he couldn’t hold back any longer. Coriolanus wrapped his lips around your clitoris, giving it a harsh suck. Your hips lifted off the bed, grinding down on his face. Your hand, still gripping his hair, tugged harshly on his roots. A moan escaped his lips. Oh, yes, this was exactly what Coriolanus wanted. His pretty little petal behaving so good for him, letting him worship you as if that was all he was made to do.
Coriolanus wrapped his arms around your hips, urging your legs to rest on his shoulders. He felt your ankles lock together, one of your heels digging into his back. Perfect. You were so perfect, so responsive to him. “I love you,” he said as if it were prayer before he pushed his tongue in.
You were so fucking wet for him. He had barely done anything, and yet you were dripping. He collected your juices on his tongue, savoring the taste, committing it to memory. Though he planned to spend every night for the rest of his life between your legs, he never wanted to forget this. If he should ever lose his brilliant mind, if he should never be as intelligent as he is now, he wanted to remember what it felt like to eat your cunt like it was his favorite meal.
“Coryo, ah—” you cried out, tugging harder on his hair. “Too much—”
No—not enough.
Your thighs trembled. You were so close. Coriolanus swiped his tongue along your clit, moaning as you closed your legs around his head, trapping him there as you chased your high. They only slackened after you came undone with a shout. He pulled away, pressing another kiss to your thigh, before sitting back, admiring the mess you had become.
“I love you, petal,” he said.
You offered him a sleepy smile. “You keep saying that.”
“And I will keep saying it until you believe it.” Coriolanus crawled up your body. When he laid over you, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “And I will keep saying it long after.”
“I didn’t know you could be so sweet,” you confessed.
Coriolanus huffed out a laugh, then kissed you again. “Only for you. Everyone else can think what they wish of me.”
You reached up, carding your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut. He loved how much you touched his hair. Could he make you play with it forever? What would his advisors think if he demanded you attend every meeting with him just so you could pet his hair? “You don’t mean that. You don’t become king by letting people think whatever of you.”
“No, you don’t become king like that. But when you are king…The only thing that could get you removed is doing a piss poor job. And we both know that I’m too brilliant for that.”
You giggled and pulled him down for another kiss. “So egotistical,” you tease.
“I’ve earned it. I have an intelligent, beautiful wife. I am clever. I am King. What else could a man dream of?”
You hum, sliding your hands down his chest. You pull at the end of his shirt, untucking it from his pants. Coriolanus’s brows pinch together. “I am sure you could dream of a few things.”
He says nothing, watching as you move to undo the buttons of his shirt. But when you move to push the fabric off his shoulders, he stops you. “What are you doing, petal?”
“I…Did you not do…that, because you wanted to make love?” you asked.
Coriolanus shook his head. “I ate your cunt because I wanted to.” You looked away. He put two fingers under your chin, guiding your gaze back to him. “Were you only going to fuck me because you still think its your duty?”
You blinked up at him. “My mama said that a wife should make herself available for her husband.”
“That might be the case in her marriage, but it will not be in ours. I will only, as you say, make love to you if you want it as much as I do. I will not, I cannot, settle for anything less.”
“But, you’re a man.”
“So?”
“Aren’t men supposed to want these things?” you asked. “My mama said that men only care about their own pleasure. Why should it matter what I want?”
“Am I like other men, petal?”
“Well, no.”
“Then why should you think I would be like them in this regard?” Coriolanus paused. He sat up, resting on the backs of his legs. He took your hands, also pulling you into a sitting position. “Is this why you ran on our wedding night? Because you didn’t want me to force you?”
You looked away. He tried to chase after your gaze, but you were stubborn like an ox. “I didn’t know I could bleed from it. I thought…I thought laying with you had made me unable to discern pleasure from pain, and that terrified me.”
“Oh, petal,” Coriolanus cooed. He pulled your head against his chest. You relaxed in his hold. “All women bleed from their first time. It has nothing to do with pain. Did I hurt you that night?”
“No.” Your voice was muffled against his chest.
“I want you to tell me if I ever do. I only want to lay with you if you are enjoying it as much as I am. More than I am, preferably. ” Coriolanus titled your head up so that he may look into your eyes. “Do you understand? I…I will admit that I may have forced you into this marriage, to a degree, but I don’t want any part of your love, of your affection to be forced.”
Your eyes searched his. Oh, how he wished he could read your mind. He wished he could worm his way inside, figure out why you think the way you do. Had he not made his intentions with you clear? Had it not been so obvious that all Coriolanus wanted was your love? Perhaps he had spent too much time slithering his way to the top. Perhaps he forgot what it was like to show someone his hand.
Coriolanus pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you, my pretty petal. You consume me. And I hope that, one day, I can consume you in the same way.”
You were silent for a long moment, your eyes still searching his. Were you trying to read his mind like he was for you? Were you trying to peel back the layers of his brain, trying to find some hidden deception? You wouldn’t. This was the most honest Coriolanus had been in a long time. “What if I told you, you already do?”
“Don’t say things you don’t mean, petal.”
“But I do mean it. You confuse my thoughts. I spend every moment trying to understand you. When I wake in the morning, I wonder how you’ll change my perception of you. When I go to bed, I let myself believe that you truly do love me. That it’s not all some façade you’ve crafted to marry a perfect Queen. When I dream, I let myself be that Queen.”
“Petal…”
“I don’t know that I can say I love you,” you admitted, “but you make me feel things I could never dream of feeling. You consume me. You say you burn for me…I don’t think I knew light until I began to know you, truly know you. If that’s love, I don’t know. But you have wormed your way inside me, and I don’t think I can ever let you out.”
Coriolanus combed his fingers through your hair. “Then don’t.”
You sucked in a breath, leaning into his hand. “I won’t, but only if you hold me.”
“Yeah?”
“I deprived you, us, of that on our wedding night. I don’t think I would like to do that again.”
“Whatever you wish for is yours.”
And as he laid back, and as you settled yourself in his arms, Coriolanus decided that this was the happiest he had ever been.
#the house of snow: a royal coryo au#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus snow x female reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x y/n#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow fan fiction#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus snow fan fic#coriolanus snow fic#starrywrites#starryevermore
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Reader Fatigue
Book: The Royal Romance
Rating: G
Pairing: Hana Lee x Kiara Theron
Word Count: 2, 501 words
Summary: Over a year after she has settled in with her wife in Cordonia, why does Hana not feel the same joy when she reads??
Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek and @sazanes for HLAW Day 3: Bookworm, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and LGBTQ Archive, and @choicesmaychallenge24 for the theme "Athena: Wisdom".
Three months.
Hana stirs in her bed, frowning drowsily at the abandoned book on her bedside table. The thought is small, fleeting, a tiny grain of doubt that could be swept away in the wind. Yet it persists, in the harsh, too-bright sunlight streaming in from the French windows in her bedroom, reminding her that it's mid-afternoon; the time she typically would use to enjoy a cup of tea and a light read.
Hana allows herself a small smile as the figure next to her groans and inches a little closer to her, her arms still wrapped loosely around her waist. It's usually Kiara who gets up earlier from their afternoon siestas, teasing her over wanting to read "when your eyes aren't even half-open yet, chérie!"
On weekends, Kiara would encourage her to sleep in a little more. She knew Hana would appreciate the opportunity to binge-read cover-to-cover - perhaps re-read if she really liked the material.
It's been three months now since she's been able to complete a chapter, much less a book.
Hana stretches, catlike, before blindly groping for the book she'd left abandoned on the bedside table. The Crown and the Flame. It's an abridged version, one she'd carried from her childhood home and always found herself devouring in less than two hours...yet somehow she hasn't been able to move past Dominic Hunter's account of his first encounter with a young Princess Kenna at a Beltane festival.
Hana wishes she know how - when! - it had come to this.
When she got married to Kiara last year, it was almost as if the floodgates had opened on everything. Whatever Esther had predicted in that patisserie in Paris - maybe you're fated to be a prim, girly girl adventurer who has unknown depths just waiting to be found! - seemed to be on the cusp of becoming a reality.
Back home in Shanghai, almost every morsel of literature Hana managed to devour was a guilty pleasure; she'd hidden books in secret corners, savoured words and worlds unknown underneath the comforting cocoon of a blanket, uttered half-truths to keep the more scandalous material out of her parents' hands, weaved happy endings and bright futures for favourite couples and charactes, long after she had put the books down.
Hana wonders now if half the fun, back then, was in the secrecy. If half the comfort had come from sharing space with Father and Mother, and knowing they would never truly be able to capture the joy she experienced from reading or make it their own. There was a freedom in that - and for Hana, any freedom would be a luxury to be savoured, like a bonbon from a visiting relative, savoured bite by tiny bite just so the pleasure could last a bit longer.
That shift in circumstances when she married Kiara, had been overwhelming. And perhaps the way she had just gone rogue the minute Kiara gifted her her own personal library, was to be expected.
No rules, no restrictions, no restraints on what she could or couldn't read. The cocoon of her blankets gave way to the vast expanse of her library, with its wide welcoming spaces, its winding staircases, its comforting, velvet seats that allowed her to sink into them, whenever she felt like having a reading marathon.
(Which was often).
Hana had spent so much of her childhood looking over her shoulder as she devoured her books, that the idea of just reading whatever the hell she wanted felt overwhelming. But she grabbed it. With both hands. And embraced the prospect. With all her heart. Hours and hours perusing over every possible scrap of reading material she could find - history, mythology, mystery fiction, true crime, even gothic horror (which she didn't expect to wholeheartedly love the way she does now!).
Whenever the two of them got even a sliver of free time, Kiara would come to expect that Hana would suggest sneaking into the library first.
(For a reading session? To ravish each other against the bookshelves, sending an entire pile of French Renaissance literature tumbling to the floor? Both possibilities held equal appeal)
Hana would even give the occasional gossip rag the once-over, though the abysmal editing and the awful typos made her grit her teeth on occasion.
It was glorious. Novels, poetry, essay collections, her favourite mythological retellings. There was nothing Hana wouldn't read; this library was her oyster. Some evenings when Kiara came home later than Hana did, she wouldn't even bother searching anywhere else in their manor - she'd just make a beeline to the library.
That was a year ago.
Wearily, Hana places a bookmark (handmade, laminated, with pressed dried flowers she had selected herself) on the very page she'd opened, letting out a soft sigh. It's almost as if - after the exhilaration of reading whenever and whatever she liked - her brain has decided it's had enough, and has shut down.
In the first two weeks of this strange predicament, Hana had tried to put it down to different things. Overwork, or the aftermath of juggling all her new roles and all the new skills she'd managed to learn. Perhaps her reading has suffered because she doesn't have the time.
But she knows in her heart that that isn't quite true. Hana isn't sure she has been as free in her life as she has been these past few months. Her calendar has been freed up considerably; she's managed to have more romantic dates with Kiara in the past month than they'd had all year. It can't be a lack of time or even general fatigue, because these days she doesn't do much else that taxes the mind.
No - she has the time. She has the resources - thanks to Kiara, far too much of the resources. And there's no question that she has the desire to keep reading. She just can't ever bring herself to finish.
As she places the book, dully, back on the bedside table, Hana feels a slender arm snaking its way around her waist, a chin nestling against her shoulder with a murmur of approval.
"Mon ange," Kiara whispers, her voice rough, grainy, deep, like freshly-ground coffee. She plants a kiss on Hana's shoulder, lacing their fingers together.
Lazily, Hana turns in Kiara's arms and moves her hands so she can lightly finger her curls, marvelling at how soft they feel in her hands. Kiara takes a long, hard look at Hana as her vision clears, probably wondering what she's hiding. Hana wishes her wife wasn't so good at guessing when something doesn't feel right.
She tries hard to school her features into something more neutral - more fitting for someone who just woke up and wasn't ruminating over something she has lost - but Kiara has never been that easy to fool.
"Everything's okay?" Kiara says, "You've been looking a bit...off for the past few weeks."
Hana looks down, pretending to busy herself with the crocheted fringes of the blanket. Could she laugh it off? Claim that her wife is probably overthinking, that she is worrying over nothing?
Because in the grand scheme of things, it is nothing. She's been doing well. She's never been happier than she is now - she has a home, a purpose, a wife she is madly in love with, passions that she's never felt more free to pursue!
She curses herself as she begins to feel that tell-tale burn in her throat. Struggling to read a book shouldn't affect her this much.
She looks up at Kiara, and almost begins to lie. But Hana knows she's not the best of liars, that most times her eyes give her away. Kiara's fingers are already moving towards the corners of her eyes, brushing the teardrops away.
Hana sniffles. "It's silly."
"Humour me," Kiara nudges her gently. "I don't care how stupid it sounds."
Hana sighs, and tells her. Midway through it all, Kiara props up two pillows against the bedstand and gets them to sit up, Hana safely ensconced in her arms. She tells Kiara everything. How much joy she'd had every time she'd picked up a book. How that joy would spring up double fold if it was about something she barely understood. How easy it was, a year ago, to speed-read the first time, then savour re-reads. How - whenever she felt a little bit naughty - she'd read a book backwards, from the last chapter to the first; giggling as she came to the beginning of the book knowing how it would end.
How...of late...she can find no fun, no joy, in turning to the next page - much less the end of a book.
"It's a stupid, stupid thing to worry about," Hana rails on, "I can just imagine my people at Krysanthe looking at me and shaking their heads and thinking 'oh, the Duchess and her first-world-problems'."
Kiara laughs gently, snuggling Hana closer to her. She passes a small handkerchief to her free hand. "That's all of us, with our people. And they're not completely wrong - of course our lives have always been far better and easier than theirs...most times through their labour. But that doesn't mean that you have to ignore things that confuse or distress you, ma moité." Her hand caresses Hana's shoulder in an attempt to give comfort. "And learning that a pastime so beloved no longer gives you the joy you always got from it...is bound to confuse you."
Hana blows her nose into the handkerchief. "I think a part of it is that...I'm beginning to wonder if I was lying to myself about loving reading books, this whole time."
She takes a deep breath, running her hands back and forth over the soft blanket for comfort. "And if I did...what else have I been lying to myself about? What else will I find I don't like, now that my parents can't dictate the way I live my life? Fashion? Poetry? Music??" Hana takes in a deep breath, almost shocked at the things she's revealing because she hardly ever allowed herself to dwell upon any of this before, much less say it out loud. "What if there's nothing that I liked that I can't put down to parental pressure? What if I keep unraveling, and peeling off, everything I thought I was and find that I'm...well...nothing?"
For one moment, Kiara's eyes seem to search her face, frowning deeply. Then her body goes slack, only her hands enfolding her in a tight, comforting hug. She sighs softly against Hana's hair. "Oh, Hana."
For several minutes, Kiara says nothing - just cradles Hana in her arms, rocking her back and forth, her hands moving in a light caress up and down her spine. When she feels Hana go calmer, she moves her hands to her face, cupping her cheeks.
"What you're facing right now...that's something almost every book lover will have gone through, sometime or other. Especially if their passion was something they had to keep a secret, and they suddenly find that they're no longer bound by any rules or restrictions."
Hana raises her eyes to Kiara's face. "Even you?"
Kiara laughs. "I'm not exactly as passionate about reading as you are, but I've seen that fatigue in Baba often. And I've faced that often with my translation work too. It's what happens when you haven't learnt yet how to regulate your passions. You do too much, you overtax your mind. And maybe this phase...maybe it's your brain and your body screaming for you to find a little bit of balance, darling."
It's now Hana's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"
Kiara's eyes dart upwards, in that way it does whenever she is pondering deeply over the best way to convey a thought. And then she suddenly smiles, almost as if she's found the perfect way to get it across. "You do love chocolate, don't you?"
Hana takes a long, hard look at Kiara's face, then bursts into delighted laughter. "Well, it's impossible to argue about or deny that!"
"What if you gave yourself unlimited access to it...no restrictions, no holds barred, allowing yourself to have as much of it as you've wanted all the time? Would it always taste the same?"
Gazing into her wife's face, Hana marvels at how perfect this analogy is. How fitting. "Of course not. I'd maybe even grow a little sick of it at some point!"
"Does that mean you'd been lying to yourself about loving it this whole time?"
Hana throws back her head and laughs, a full-throated joyful sound this time. "You could even say I'd probably get back to remembering how wonderful it tasted if I spent a little time away from it."
Grinning, Kiara bumps her forehead playfully into Hana's. "Only a bookworm would understand a metaphor that quickly. I wasn't even halfway through explaining that."
Hana slips her hands into Kiara's curls again, just the way she knows her wife likes it. She lets out a watery giggle. "That's very nice to hear."
Kiara exhales and shakes her head. "So much has changed for you, Hana. And it isn't your fault that you found freedom in a thing you loved and pushed yourself into it so much. It's natural for someone who was expected to live her entire life on someone else's terms." She holds one of Hana's hands tight within her own. "When we got married, you approached your reading the way a child would approach a shop full of bonbons for the very first time. Now you're learning the more adult way of doing it - enjoy it... but never too much all at once."
Smiling, her eyes a tiny bit watery, Hana gently cups her wife's chin. "So wise, for one so young," she teases gently.
Kiara playfully punches her arm, pursing her lips in muffled laughter. "Stop sounding like my Baba and act more like my mrati."
In higher spirits now, Hana gives Kiara a quick kiss, then makes a move to get off the bed. "All this talk of chocolate is making me hungry. What do you say I make us a mug each of my special hot chocolate, now that it's almost teatime?"
Kiara smiles, sighing in relief. These are not the words of a woman who is trying to move away, unsuccessfully, from thoughts that disturb her, or an attempt to change the subject. Just a sign that her intrusive, self-flagellation thoughts are moving in a different direction. A better direction.
She nods, eagerly. "Hayati," she says, giving her wife a saucy grin, "when have I ever said no to your hot chocolate?"
--
Translations:
Ma moité - French for "my other half"
Hayati - Darija/Arabic for "my life"
Mon ange - French for "my angel"
Baba, Mrati - Moroccan Darija terms for addressing one's father and wife, respectively
A/N: Post the pandemic I've been struggling a lot with my reading, and had a lot of the same questions my Hana had running in my head. I guess this fic was an attempt to make sense of that, but using Hana's post-marriage context as a springboard.
#hana lee#the royal romance#the royal heir#the royal finale#hanaleeappreciationweek#HLAW#HLAW 2024#HLAW Day 3#HLAW Day 3: Bookworm#lizzybeth1986#content: fanfic#hana lee x kiara theron#series: petals and thornes
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Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Prologue
Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader
Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader
Prologue: Dying in the Roses
Summary: (Y/N) meets their death.
Mouse Note: Welcome to Nature of the Human Soul! I'm so happy to get to share with you all! I put a lot of work into this new series, and I'm very happy about it. Just a quick reminder, it is a found family/platonic series, so no romance amongst any Hazbin characters and the MC. That would be weird since the MC is seventeen. But other than that, I'm ready to have some fun, and I hope you are, too! As always, please comment your thoughts below. I love interacting with readers, and it is such a motivation to write. So, please, sit back, enjoy!
(Y/N) limped out of the house they’d been raised in. Their own blood stained their stomach and hands as they tried to hold their wound closed, mixing with the blood that was not their own.
(Y/N) didn’t care. The ordeal was finished. They were finished. There was nothing left for them, and they’d done everything they’d wanted to—needed to.
(Y/N) stood at the edge of the patio and stared out over the garden they’d grown up in. Apple trees lined the edges of the yard. Flower bushes grew around the patio. It was all so perfect.
They despised it.
(Y/N) took a step forward and held onto the railing as they stepped down off the patio. They could do it. They could make it out of the garden.
Just once. Just once.
(Y/N)’s strength failed, and they stumbled.
Come on, just once.
Another step, and (Y/N) collapsed. They fell back into the rosebushes decorating the yard. They couldn’t even muster the strength to cry out at the pain of thorns pricking every inch of their skin.
(Y/N) lay among the briars and petals, staring up at the bright sun above them as their vision turned black.
They were dying.
And they had never made it to freedom.
What a fucking joke.
Taglist:
@kyalov
@pandaquick
@boredwithlifeatthispoint
@jaytheaceenby
@paastaboi
@bettybabys
@gxdoesstuff
#nature of the human soul#x reader#nb reader#gn reader#x nb reader#x gn reader#x teen!reader#x teen reader#teen reader#teen!reader#platonic hazbin hotel#platonic x reader#platonic#father figure#found family trope#found family#hazbin hotel x teen reader#hazbin hotel x teen!reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x teen!reader#alastor x teen reader
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cathy dollanganger would’ve loved lana del rey
#flowers in the attic#petals on the wind#vc andrews#dollanganger series#christopher dollanganger#cathy dollanganger#if there be thorns#garden of shadows#virginia andrews#lana del rey
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soft sounds from another planet - chapter 1
🪐 . pairing - twelve y/o!Luke Castellan x twelve y/o!fem!reader au
🪐 . summary - who knew a walk in the park would leave you longing for someone who you had no idea you’d ever see again?
🪐 . includes - sadness, baby Luke, May Castellan my baby
🪐 . word count - 2,021 😭
🪐 . series taglist - @sarhrts @mayaahhs @mischiefmoons
🪐 . pjo taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303
🪐 . now playing - Soft Sounds From Another Planet by Japanese Breakfast
🪐 . a/n - chapter one of the series !! comments and reblogs are appreciated, i love talking to you guys ! <3
🪐 . series masterlist
fallen leaves crunched under your feet, your shaky legs wobbling with exhaustion. the cool autumn air breathlessly flowed through your bones, chilling you to the core. warm hues of august’s blazing sunset casted an ethereal glow on you as you walked, illuminating the breathtaking features that littered your face.
you took uneven steps, which matched your quaking breaths. your fingers flowed delicately through the leaves of the bushes surrounding you. you silently admired the beauty of it all; of all the perfectly woven thorns and petals that equally occupied the bushes. of the few brightly tinted leaves that still stuck strong to their beloved trees. of the precious butterfly families that always find their ways back to each other.
it’s cruel. how everything around you continues on, without a care in the world. without the knowledge that you weren't privileged enough to enjoy things like they did. you tried to focus on the beauty of the scene around you. happy families walking and laughing with each other, leaves falling from their semi-bare trees, birds singing beautifully to their dearest loved ones. maybe taking a picture would successfully etch it into your mind.
it’s unfair. you desperately yearn for the love you sense in the air. for the security that those around you can feel in their own homes. it’s not fair that their habitat has become a refuge for you; to escape from the house called ‘home.’ you felt safe in the masked delicacy of the park. the cherished home of the unique insects and plants.
the sun had traveled further down since the start of your walk, but still gave you the same warm feeling from before. you kept your head pointing to the ground, your eyes traced the path you created. up ahead of you was an empty bench. It sat quietly and unbothered under a tree, which strategically blocked the sun from where you’d sit, while also allowing a slight glow to beam down on it.
in your mind, you had already claimed the bench before you even got to it. and when you were close enough to sit on it, you chose the spot right in the middle, hoping your choice would show those around that you’d prefer to stay alone. you leaned against the backrest of the bench. there was a distant look in your eyes, not truly focused on one thing.
a dim, empty hue flooded your eyes and a solemn look heavily rested upon your intricate features. you basked in the sweet sound of the rustling trees. there was a slight pounding in your head, the result of the sobs that frantically wracked through your body prior to your walk. your strong emotions pathetically left your nose runny and eyes puffy.
the scene that played itself before you in the last hour weighed down all that was left in your heart. the great being that controlled your life roughly pulled on the few strings connecting your heart to your mind. it made your insides feel heavy and achy, leaving your mind an irreversible, trashed mess.
you focused your eyes back to the scene before you. fewer people stood around than before, most having left at the newer darkness that had formed. there was no one that really stood out to you. your eyes glazed over all your surroundings, quickly pausing at things that you found most intriguing. the final stop was at the bench across the park from you, though you were unable to tear your eyes away.
sat at said bench, mirroring you, was a boy. from afar he seemed he could be your age, yet it was still hard to tell. he, too, sat in the middle of his bench. you couldn’t see his face well, but you could see most of him. though he was sitting, he looked to be somewhat tall. he had dark curls and a blurry face you wish you could see up close.
you wouldn't dare go up to him, though. afraid you’d scare him off with your rough voice and red eyes. with your decision held firm in your mind, you still allowed yourself to shamelessly stare at him. how could someone so physically far from you feel so emotionally close? you had an inexplicably deep desire to know him. To understand why he was here. or how he seemed to be the one thing you needed that was there right when you needed him.
you got so lost in your desires to know this mystery boy that you failed to notice how you caught his attention. you were brought back to the present, eyes meeting his far ones. you should've been embarrassed, being caught staring at a boy you’ve never met, yet you weren’t. it just made you want to talk to him even more.
your shared eye contact stayed strong. neither of you chose to be the one to break it. that’s what you thought, until he stood up. he was tall. he made careful, hesitant steps towards you, assuming you shared the same interest in him as he did you. you were intrigued, and him nearing you made your odd desires to know him grow rapidly. so you stood up as well, elegantly flowing towards him.
you and the boy met each other in the middle, what was barely left of the sunset lit up his features beautifully. he looked like a god. the light illuminated the glowing gold specks in his brown eyes. he had a scar of a hero that ran down his right cheek. his raven hair curled perfectly in all possible directions. there was a mystifying, ethereal beauty to him, one that you could spend forever observing.
nothing was awkward between you. it felt as if you’d known him all your life. it felt like you had lived a whole lifetime with him, yet in this one, you don't even know his name. a new feeling washes over you, one so unfamiliar that you struggle to put it into words. you feel like just by being in his presence, you’re more protected than you’ve ever been.
around this boy, whom you ‘just met,’ you felt an indescribable tug. like the being controlling your heartstrings had intricately tied them to his, entrusting him to protect your heart in ways you’d never imagine you deserved. and you did deserve it. one day he’d show you just how much you did.
“i’m Luke,” he muttered, it was barely above a whisper. however, your close proximity allowed for his quiet words to be clearly understood. his voice was soft and soothing. the delicate strum of his vocal cords physically calmed you. they sent a strong wave of reassurance through you, ridding you of all your previous worries.
you finally told him your name, and you swear you saw his eyes gleam even more. in admiration? curiosity? there was an unspoken connection that sat comfortably between you two, buzzing with delight. you didn’t even need to speak and still there was so much being said.
neither of you seemed to have an actual conversation to start, both just wanting to be in the presence of the other. he softly smiled at you, his pearly white teeth flashing by in a blink. he had small dimples on both cheeks. his smile, his dimples and his bright eyes ignite something in you, making your head feel fuzzy.
he awkwardly glanced around you guys, taking a calm breath and beginning to talk, “why are you sitting here all alone? you look upset.” you felt his burning gaze as he watched you, awaiting your answer, but you hadn’t returned it. he whispered your name, catching your full attention. your eyes met his. they were full of patience and interest, allowing you to say only what you needed to.
“just- needed to get away, i guess.” he nodded understandingly at your words, knowing that you may not want to share anything else. from an outside view, you two must’ve looked strange, standing in the middle of the park sharing a few words with each other. but between the two of you, it was so much more.
Luke didn’t push you, didn’t make you say more than you could. he waited for you to talk to him, to trust him. a comfortable wave of silence washed over, so much was being expressed just from the eye contact you guys made, and the smiles you shared.
you hadn’t noticed that Luke wasn’t the only one presenting a smile, but he did. a breathtaking smile was plastered on your lips, creases formed in the corner of your eyes, which shone with a feeling that could only be described as feeling alive. you felt like all your problems were small and stupid. when Luke was around, he acted like a true guard of your heart. protecting you from all that burdened and weighed you down.
your body moved on autopilot as you found the words you had been searching for, you were just on the brink of uttering them. “Luke!” his attention was torn away from you at the call, his head darted behind him. a slim woman with long, dark hair, who you assumed was his mother, stood at one of the entrances, waving her arm, beckoning him towards her.
he waved back, possibly a signal for ‘one minute.’ a dreadful feeling flooded your insides, sprouting from your stomach and spreading rapidly. it hit your heart first, and you felt the warm sensation of his silent protection fading away. all you could do was stand and watch the comfort you felt slowly seep from within you.
he looked back at you again, but his smile had shrunk. now, he looked at you with remorse, not missing the emptiness that formed in the dark parts of your eyes. he took pity, understanding the reasons behind your poorly hidden feelings. he still didn't push, however, not wanting to pile on the growing pressure that was filling your heart.
“you have to go?” he sighed. and he waited for the silence to answer your question. it did. he still looked at you, though, as you did him. you tried to not let any emotion on your face, it’s not his fault that he has to leave, and it's not fair to blame him. neither wanted to be the one to walk away first, but he knew it would have to be him. his mother was waiting. he couldn’t keep his mother waiting.
he flashed a dim smile, “it was nice meeting you.” he tried to ease the quiet, hoping it would give back that comfort, even for a small time. you lowly grinned, offering the young boy your hand, “will I ever see you again, Luke?” gears turned in his head as he pondered the question. Luke smiled, answering your question with a nod as he shook your hand. his was warm, and comforting, and it gave you a pinch of comfort that quickly disappeared as he pulled away.
then, he said his goodbyes, walking back over to the woman at the entrance. the woman who smiled brightly at his arrival, wrapping her arm around him and playfully ruffling his hair. you couldn’t tear your eyes from the acts of affection playing in front of you, sending hurtful pangs straight to your heart. the strings felt like they were being forcefully tugged on with no remorse.
Luke had glanced back at you, hoping to make eye contact with you one last time. but your back was already facing him as you walked away, footsteps heavy. Luke didn’t know what you had to go home to. he didn’t know that you yearned for what he had with his mother. but he didn’t have to know.
you had barely been gone for a few minutes, escaping into the darkness of the woods, yet Luke already missed you, wishing he could be back in your comforting presence once again. you cherished the new, euphoric feeling he gave you, the soft sounds that played from him.
the soft sounds from his planet that lit the dim lights on yours.
© sovksluv 2024 , please do not repost or translate my work !
#𖤐 . rue’s world#𖤐 . rue talks#luke castellan#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo disney+#pjo fandom#pjo series#pjo show#pjo spoilers#pjo tv show#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan x reader#charlie bushnell#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x you#charlie bushnell x reader#charlie bushnell imagine
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Rafe Cameron's Masterlist 1
Series:
Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Complete)
Before The Last Petal Falls (Complete)
Let Me, Angel (Anthology)
Assisting In Deception (Complete)
A New Kind Of Normal (In Progress)
Oneshots:
Some People Can Change
I Don’t Share My Candy
Cheese Head
Do You Want Those Things?
The First Son And The First Spare (Part 1)
The Prince Consort And The First Daughter-In-Law (Part 2)
Violation Of Privacy
Bad Friend
The Story Of Them
To Earn Your Love
Really, Rafe?!
Death By Clothes Rack
Stubborn Little Girl
You Deserve Better
Mistakes That Can Be Undone
The People We Used To Be
The Gymnastics Coach
Not Going Anywhere
Mr.Right
Always There
The Obligation of A Fuck Buddy
Whispered I Love Yous
Safe In The Arms Of The Enemy
Everything Was Blue
Helping Hand
Blurb:
Boyfriend Rules
I'm Here
Fight or Flight
Summer Secrets
The Lesson (Part 1)
The Lesson (Part 2)
Rafe To The Rescue
Pretty Girl
I Want To Be With You (Part 1)
I Want To Be Your Boyfriend (Part 2)
Miscommunicated Silence
The Lies You Tell The Other Woman (Part 1)
The Lies She Tells Herself (Part 2)
Pretty Abs
Picture Perfect Snow Globe
Shit Friends
Clingy Bitch
You Are My Lover
His Saviour
Too Big
Two Happy Kitties
Violation of Privacy
No Recognition
Rafe’s First Love
Who Do You Love?
Dude, That's My Sister
Don't Know How To Show I Care
Hammocks, Massages and Cookies
Missed Connections
Fading Memories
Her Wildest Dreams
Can't Deal With Your Shit
Dirty Floors and Wrinkly Hands
One Lock, Two Locks, Three Locks More
My Particular Girl
Maniac
Candle-Lit Dinners
Cute Asshole (Part 1)
Cute Pogue (Part 2)
You Will Always Be My Business
Matching Hair
I Know
The Help
Bow
Mrs. Cameron All But In Name
At Her Beck And Call
Ghost Of A Memory
The Speed Of Light
Musical Chairs
Smell My Shirt
Neverending Texts
Burning Obsession
Little Subway Things
Oedipus Rex
Red Light Kisses
Lifting My Own Weight
Setting The Standards
Meant To Be A Cameron
Crazy Christmas
Who I Am
You're Breaking My Heart
Drives Me Wild
Rule Number 3
Slow Death
Clumsy Princess
Elizabeth’s Replacement
Busy Hands
Dead Dad Club
Bed Companion
Headcanon:
Anxiety Whisperer
#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron series#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe smut#outerbanks#outer banks rafe#outer banks imagine#outer banks x reader#obx#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#obx fic#obx x reader#obx x you#obx x y/n#outer banks x y/n
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